


This Is My Confession

by LilianaSnow



Category: Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Gym Class Heroes, Panic! at the Disco, Pete Wentz and His Humans, Saw (Movies), The Academy Is...
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Begging, Blood and Gore, Despair, Desperation, Destruction, Difficult Decisions, Hatred, Heavy Angst, Hope vs. Despair, Mind Games, Pain, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Prayer, Psychological Torture, Self-Denial, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Torture, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilianaSnow/pseuds/LilianaSnow
Summary: I forgot to do Promptober so I did this instead. Kill Count this fucker! (JK)





	This Is My Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that the behaviour in this story is mostly fictional! The things most of them admit to are all made up for the sake of putting them in here. I do not condone the behaviour written in and I most certainly do not like what these people have either actually done or have done strictly in the story.

The first thing Patrick noticed? That Pete was in chains. Then he noticed that so was he.

Then he looked around and found that so was everyone else. He didn't like what he was seeing. So many people were here.

A voice crackled into the room. They all looked up to see a puppet on a tricycle, with red cheeks and evil eyes, staring at them from the wall.

"I want to play a game." They all looked up at a screen in the wall. "Within this room, all of you have made choices that have caused misery and suffering in the lives of those around you. Because of this, you will be tested. The keys to your escape are right in front of you. You cannot see them until you have confessed your sins. Once you have confessed, you will be forced to choose." The audio cut out.

"What? What's going on?" Gabe asked, shocked and terrified.

"I don't know," William replied, voice muffled by the contraption around his throat.

"Maybe this is all a prank?" Pete asked, whimpering. "Or some crazy fan? We won't need to worry if it's either of those, right?"

"Pete, John Lennon was killed by a crazed fan," Ryan responded hoarsely. "Maybe it was one of the guys from My Chem?"

"They're violent, but not even Gerard is this dark-minded, Ry." Pete whimpered slightly. "It can't be Kramer, can it?"

"Yeah, of course it's not Kramer. Brendon just slipped shrooms into our pizza, Pete, ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE," Gabe sobbed.

"Patrick please, you gotta do something, we can't die down here," Pete begged, turning to his friend. The only thing he had ever done. Turn to Patrick.

Patrick groaned, looking around. Something had to be obvious. here ha to be something that would be a huge revelation and Patrick could save them all. Or he was about to be killed. Either way, he'd get it off his chest. "I- The I in Lie wasn't fake. It was a genuine confession. I cheated on my wife with a single mother by the name of Barbara. Or Betty, I can't remember which, but I do remember I cheated. I have no excuse but I did it."

He looked around, waiting for something to click, when a panel fell off of the ceiling. Dangling from it were an audio tape and a album art from SRAR. He reached out to press play.

"Hello, Patrick. You used to believe the world was at your fingertips, that what was put into the videos you wrote were always fiction. However, you never once thought that they could hurt people. Now, a slow spreading poison has been injected into your hand to show the damage you have caused. If you wish to save yourself, you will cut it off. How much will you let become real to save yourself?"

Patrick whimpered, looking down at himself. His hand- the one removed in the Phoenix video- was slowly turning blue. He looked around frantically to find a large knife laying on the ground. He grabbed it and raised it above his head, whimpering, but he steeled himself and brought it down. He cried out as his hand fell away, lifeless.

He cradled the stump of his hand close, looking for something to staunch the bleeding. He gave up on that and pulled off his shirt to tie around it and cut off the bleeding, then looked up.

Will and Travie were immediately more terrified, struggling against their personalized traps. Ryland had started singing in a high-pitched, strained, fearful tone, "We're all gonna die, we're all gonna die here." Pete was clutching at his chest, obviously mid-panic attack. Kenneth was cussing under his breath. Ryan was sobbing and whimpering out lyrics he'd written for Panic! and for himself. Gabe was furiously speaking in a language Patrick was mostly unfamiliar with, but could tell was Hebrew. He was praying. What for, he didn't know- his wife, his kids, his friends, himself, forgiveness- he was at a loss. But it scared Patrick to see him resort to that.

"W-Who's next?" He stuttered out weakly, trying to keep as many people alive as possible.

"I- I left Panic! because I hurt Brendon. He was scared of me- I didn't plan on it! But he was- so so pretty..." Ryan sobbed. "I left without trying to resolve it. I want to reconnect but I can't- he'll hate me and he has every right to."

His tape appeared next to him, and as Ryan's hands were tied, Patrick pressed the play button for him.

"Ryan. You hurt someone you deeply cared for and because of that he suffers, alone in the world. Because you were too scared to try to ammend it, you abandoned him completely. Now, it is you who must allow someone who cares about to hurt you. From your throat is a key that will unlock any one of the people around you, but it will break after one use. Choose carefully who you ask to free, because they may not need it."

Ryan whimpered, looking at Patrick. "Whoever you want. I don't care. Just tell Brendon I'm sorry." He wriggled to grab his string, yanking it out through his throat. He screamed but was cut off, muted.

Patrick looked around at everyone. Ryan was still padlocked in place, with no hope of escape. He saw that everyone else had an escape route through the game still, so he chose to free Ryan. He unlocked him, and true to the words on the tape, it broke once the lock opened. He staunched the bleeding from Ryan's neck as best he could.

Ryan looked up at him, touched. But now was not the time for this. He held a hand to his throat and looked around, hoping to find a way for him to help everyone else.

"I... It's Warmer in the Basement is about a girl I knew. She let me lock her up as a sex slave. She died in childbirth." Gabe looked around, chewing on his lip.

A tape fell into his lap and played out.

"Gabe. You put power into play, choosing to ignore the needs of one less fortunate to you. An innocent woman and even more innocent child died because of that. You didn't try to take responsibility. You ran. You hid. You caused unwarranted suffering from unwilling people. Now, you must make a choice. You can see what options you have. One of them will kill you. The other will set off the trap of one of your close friends, which could- and probably will- kill him if he is unprepared. You have to convince the person who has gotten out of their trap to pull one of the levers. Which one, is your choice, but keep in mind the consequences. If you choose neither, then both will be sprung. You have five minutes."

Gabe looked to Patrick. "Please. This one." He pointed to the one in front of his left hand. "Please just pull it, Patrick. For me?" He sobbed, breathing heavily. "Please Patrick!"

Patrick made to pull it, but he had a moment of doubt. He grabbed the other lever, ignoring the "Patrick no, the other one, no!", and pulled.

The contraption around Gabe's neck fell to the floor, and his binds did as well. Acid sprayed and hit his face, hands, torso, you name it, drawing screams and sobs from his throat. But that didn't kill him.

He'd begged to be beheaded by the modified piston that was now on the ground.

Instead, William was now screaming at the top of his lungs, writhing in agony. He was confessing: to cheating; to manipulation; to fucking around with illegal and barely legal girls; to anything and everything he had never told them. But it was useless to him.

His chair was pushing spikes at him. Through him. A key to his escape was hanging just out of everyone's reach. He tried to grab it but pulled back in agony when that started tearing at his already-pierced skin. He tried again but it was too late. Spikes had gone all the way through his body. One through his chest had pushed out half of his heart and one of his lungs.

Gabe sobbed out at that, covering his face. "Why didn't you listen to me, Trick? Why didn't you just kill me?"

Patrick was staring, wide-eyed, at William's corpse. He whimpered slightly, but turned to attend to Gabe.

"It's okay. It'll be okay... This'll be fine. We just need to-"

"It's not okay! Bilvy's fucking _dead_ now. Because of you. Because you didn't fucking listen to me."

Patrick took a deep breath. "And I'm sorry, Gabe. I'm sorry you're alive and he isn't but I need you to let me get you out. I'm terrified and we all are. I'm surprised I'm not screaming. But I need everyone else here to get out alive. I'm not letting you stay."

Gabe forced himself to get up, stumbling and weak. He wound up collapsing from pain. Patrick forced himself toet hin lean on him.

Pete whimpered up at Patrick. "I... Tried to kill myself... Even after I wrote What A Catch for you... I'm sorry, Patrick. And now I'm stuck here and we might not all make it and Beckett's dead and some of you guys have made terrible mistakes and I know I should be mad but I'm not. I want you to be okay. So if I fail my trap, please. Just go. Don't mourn until the rest of you are out of here. Then mourn. Or don't. I wouldn't deserve it..."

A tape fell, which Pete turned on, crying again. Though he was crying rather loudly, as were Gabe, Travie, and Ryan (who was still able to gasp), they could all still hear.

"Peter. You overdosed once, which your best friend had to help you recover from. You tried before then, too. But after each time, he tried to help you. Each time, you took advantage of his care. You took him for granted. Now, you must choose to cut away another thing you take for granted, or to die."

Pete whimpered, looking down, and realized what he meant.

"Patrick... Help me just this one last time. And give me the knife."

Patrick did, numbness creeping through him as he watched Pete raise the knife and self-amputate his legs. Just above the knee. His ability to do tricks onstage, to carry his kids. Gone. He pulled off his shirt and tore it weakly, tying the fabric around his stumps.

Travie sobbed out again and felt at the contraption around his chest. "I have to apologize, Gabe. I'm sorry. I should have listened to you when you'd had enough. I shouldn't have ever pressured you. You can block my number now if I survive. I won't try to get it back. I broke you. You never recovered and you never sought help and I'm sorry. You never deserve that."

His tape fell, and they all heard it.

"Travis. You spent the years up until your friend got a girlfriend- who he later married- forcing him to allow you to do everything from rape him to beat him. Throughout this all, that made you a cheat, a rapist, an abuser, and a betrayer. Now, you must lay back and let what is designed for you happen. All of it will end and release you, but only on its own time. You have the power to end everything- for yourself and everyone- in your left hand. Make the choice now. It might be the last opportunity you get to make one."

Travie bit his lip, closed his eyes, and resolved to stay still. Everything clamped in on him at once. Everything- shackles, piercings, his chair was cutting off his breath.. He regretted those years of pushing Gabe but now he _understood_. All of it. He had all the pressure, all the pain. His left hand had a button in it but he refused to press it. He wriggled his hand carefully to let it fall, sobbing apologies to Gabe.

It looked like he'd be there for a while, and it kind of made everyone uncomfortable, but they bit their tongues and turned to each other. Gabe was nursing burns; Patrick was cold and emotionless, not even registering the pain in his hand; Pete was a blubbering mess and clutching at his legs; Ryan was now muted; Travie was getting tortured by a chair but they guessed he'd survive. William was dead. Ryland and Kenneth hadn't gone yet. Kenneth shook his head and tried to make himself look small. Ryland had been sobbing but he was shutting up now and looking down, away from everyone else.

"I... I knocked someone up when I was 22... And when she told me... I panicked. I don't know what came over me but I hit her, I didn't want a kid... I couldn't pass my genes onto a kid. She lost the baby. She forgave me but I didn't deserve it." He had gone quiet, choked, and tears fell to his lap. "I don't deserve anything I have now."

His tape fell. It played. It was not his tape.

"Kenneth, you were the only member of your group who refused to shoulder his own burden. And, might I add, you were also the only one who never felt a shred of remorse for the action that got you put down here. Your actions have led to suicides of the very teenagers who you said you cared for, falsely pinned hate on mostly innocent girls, and the guilt of your fans. As such, your responsibility will be put on you without you calling it.  No man should be allowed to exchange inappropriate images with girls who all too often were either jailbait or downright illegal."

And with that, Ryland watched as a large chain started moving. It pulled Kenneth backward, tipping his chair. Instinctively, the bound man tried to jerk away, but binds to the same chair snapped him back in, which caused his chair to fall. 

The fall broke glass behind him, snapping his skull and pushing him into water below it. He drowned, screaming, as they were unable to get close enough to save him.

* * *

It took around half an hour before they were found, stumbling to the nearest hospital. When they did, they were treated, and entered into support programs.

They stopped being assholes to people around them. They started being more grateful for what they had. Gabe even opened up more to his father a few weeks after it happened.

"Papi?" he'd asked softly, in the middle of the night, wrapped in soft cotton blankets so as not to irritate his skin grafts yet stay warm in the middle of the night. He was freezing cold, almost blue, and Diego had pulled him inside quickly to warm him up. He wasn't even angry that Gabe had woken him up.

"What is wrong, Gabanti?" Diego had asked him just as softly, having him sit down in the living room.

"Papi, I messed up badly." He confessed everything he had in the trap, and more details of it. He ended with a plea for forgiveness and a sob as he choked out his plan to have died, and how Patrick had prevented that and sacrificed Bill as a result.

Diego had looked at him sternly, but with more concern than anger, and asked of him one thing- that he stayed open to help. Gabe begrudgingly accepted, but as he sobbed on his father's couch, Diego hugged him. Gabe was reminded of when he was little, and he would have been pushed off the slide at the park and been hurt. Diego had always looked him over and then hugged him, comforted him when he needed it. Gabe felt smaller than ever now, and he kept crying until he passed out.

After, Gabe learned he wasn't the only one of them who had sought out their parents. Patrick had sobbed into his mother's arms, Travie had been spotted being both yelled at and comforted by his own father, and Ryan was learning sign language with his parents. Pete had sought instead a notebook and his kids' company. Ryland had put himself in charge of making sure that Kenneth and William were given respect a their funerals, and when shit hit the fan about their tapes, he had left flowers at the grave anyway. Even if he wasn't too close with them he still wished that they could have learned their lesson and changed.

All of them lost fans, learned lessons, and regained the trust of those loyal to them. Nothing was ever really the same again, but while they all called each other about nightmares- with the exception of Ryan, who emailed- and they all continued with their lives, they each regained control of themselves.

It was a bittersweet feeling, surreal and unexpected.


End file.
